


An Exercise in Slush

by horusporus



Category: Babylon 5
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-20
Updated: 2015-03-20
Packaged: 2018-03-18 18:37:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3579738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/horusporus/pseuds/horusporus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ever wondered if John ever goofed up the Minbari language?</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Exercise in Slush

**Author's Note:**

> [reposting old works from my Quistis Skywalker/katryne @ff.net days]
> 
> [original notes]This story has no redeemable value whatsoever, and would probably cause a severe case of retching.
> 
> Disclaimer: They. Are. Not. Mine. My god, think of the horror if they were.
> 
> Spoiler info: Season 5 is over. John and Delenn are now in Minbar.
> 
> \-----------------
> 
> I posted this at jumpnow.de archive, and then later, in an attempt to integrate the hosting of my output, at ff.net, except then there was the big thing with the change in the kind of fics allowed, and I've lost track of a lot of things, mostly due to email addresses I can no longer log into due to memory and hacking problems. So that's been fun!
> 
> So I'm trying again, this whole exercise of having one repository for all the fics I've ever written.

A gentle breeze was blowing, ruffling her hair. Delenn stood up a little straighter, and took in a deep breath. The balcony afforded her a magnificent view, and she stood appreciatively, drinking in the sights of her beloved Minbar. Some remnants of the civil war still remained however; a war that nearly ripped the very fabric of Minbari society apart, and left behind scars that would take a long time in healing. Physical scars like the destroyed buildings, and psychological scars that remained in the hearts of many Minbari. But Minbar was rebuilding itself, and Delenn had great faith in the resilience of her people. We might not be as unpredictable as the humans are, she mused. But we are stubborn. The thought reminded her of one of Garibaldi's throwaway lines (he had a positive genius for them) about Minbaris being genetically incapable of backing down. She smiled. She missed him. She missed them.

It has been a long day. She patted the growing bulge in her belly. A long and tiring day. Thank Valen for the break. She did not think she could take another minute of the endless bickering. Perhaps her mother had the right idea. Join the Sisters of Valeria and live in a life-long seclusion. Certainly that would guarantee her peace of mind. Life would be a little more mundane, but that's a small price to pay for never having to confront a single argumentative Drazi ambassador.

She shook her head, letting the brief moment of pettiness pass. That life wasn't meant for her, prophecy or no prophecy. John wasn't the only one whose head would implode if left alone on a beach with nothing to do. Although perhaps not quite as messy, but something to that effect. She let out a silent sigh. She wished John was here, but he was away on the Vree homeworld, negotiating a new border agreement that would placate the Vree who had been insisting on more White Stars to patrol their borders. The amount demanded however, was not proportionate to their territories, so Delenn had little doubt that the negotiations would be as frustrating as hers with the Drazi had been.

'Stop it. Stop thinking about trade negotiations and border agreements,' she admonished herself. 'Cherish the moments. Enjoy the view. Forget politics and all its headaches.' As she began to heed her own advice, did her body begin to relax. She tilted her head up to the sun, feeling the combination of the warm rays and the gentle breeze caressing her face. She breathed in deeply, as if trying to inhale the scent of the sun itself into her very pores. Her figure was the very study of quiet appreciation; Delenn simply stood there, savouring the sensations.

She soon became aware of a new sensation: a pair of strong arms twined around her from behind. The hands rested lightly, possessively on her belly, encasing Delenn in a soft cage of flesh. Not that she minded. The scent of him was too familiar to ignore. She melted into her embrace.

"You're back early," she said simply. She kissed his chin. "And you've shaved."

"Thought it would make a nice surprise." He nuzzled her hair, and breathed in the fresh clean scent of her, tinged with a whiff of the er'dani flower, a scent he'll always recognise as Delenn's.

"As it turned out, it was Honnka season back on the Vree homeworld. We lucked out on the timing. They were anxious enough and impatient enough to not cause any undue trouble with the proceedings so they all could go home early." He gave a small laugh. "I know how they feel."

Delenn did not understand this 'Honnka', but she needed to know more about the more important matter first. "So they agreed to your proposal?"

"Not at first. If only it were that easy. Honnka or not, the Vree balked at my suggestion. When we asked them to give a more reasonable estimation, they hemmed and hawed with the best of them. They changed their tune pretty quickly when I suggested another day to rework the proposal. A few small changes, and we finally got the proposal finalised." He chuckled. "I think they manage to catch the opening ceremony."

That matter resolved, Delenn returned to her earlier puzzle. "Honnka?"

John tried to explain. "Honnka is a very popular sport among the Vree. Very much part of their culture. It's… it's…," he shrugged helplessly. "It's like the World Cup back on Earth. Or the World Series. Or Superbowl." He looked at her, willing her to understand.

"I see," Delenn nodded in instant comprehension. "A planetary sporting event." She had learned early on not to disturb John during one of these 'Superbowl' matches. He's not really as 'involved' as some other humans were (the antics of the Martian Rangers when Mars won the Cup was still fresh in her memory), but never get between him and his team, if they're playing. Ever. She smiled slightly. 'Superbowl' is such a silly name. She still couldn't understand it. But she had made her peace with it. And mentally filed it together with popcorn and Garibaldi's Duck Dodgers.

"With more religious overtones, so it's rather sacred," he added.

"I'm glad you're back," she said as she kissed the underside of his jaw, the scent of his aftershave strong on her nostrils.

"The Vree weren't the only one anxious to get home," he said softly.

"I'm not certain if ISN carries Honnka coverage," she teased.

John gave a small rumble of laughter, that vibrated from him and through her. She turned sideways, cuddling even closer. She had always loved the little inarticulate sounds that he makes. Especially when… she blushed a little. Never mind.

His arms tightened and he kissed her forehead. "How was the meeting? I went to see you, but you weren't there. Don't tell me it's over too?"

She grimaced a little. "We're on a break now." She sighed. "It was dreadful."

And that was all that need to be said. They stood silent together, savouring the moment, wrapped in an invisible cocoon of warm rays and gentle breeze and shared comfort.

He leaned in closer, and whispered, "Ke'che'wani."

Delenn's eyes widened. She couldn't help it. Laughter bubbled in her chest.

The Minbari guards that stood guarding the entrance to the balcony were used to the sight of President Sheridan roaring in laughter, or other emotional outbursts. Typical uninhibited human behaviour, they reasoned. But if they were surprised to see Entil'zha Delenn clutching her sides in helpless laughter, they didn't show it.

Tears were streaming from her eyes. Her sides hurt. She took a gulp of breath and looked at John. Her poor husband looked stricken. With his face flushed beet red, he looked… what was the human term? Cute. He looked cute. Downright adorable in fact.

Biting her lip and swallowing the last of her laughter, she asked carefully, "What were you trying to say?"

"I love you?" came the hesitant reply.

That nearly set her off again. "Actually," said Delenn, her mouth twitching, "You said 'I kick eyeballs' ".

John groaned. "I knew I'd screw up the pronunciation somehow." He put one hand over his eyes. "God, that was embarrassing."

Delenn hugged her husband. "It's all right. It's a common mistake."

He stroked her hair. "Not common enough, apparently." He smirked, the blush receding, although his cheeks were still of high colour. "You could've been a little more tactful."

She buried her face in his chest. Her voice was muffled. "I'm sorry. I think I've used up all my reserves for the day."

"Was the Drazi that dreadful?"

"Worse."

So he kept on stroking her hair.

Delenn had always loved moments like this. She could never get enough of him. Would never get enough of him. In the distance, she could hear the old grandfather clock ticking away. It had been a wedding present from David Sheridan. It has remained in the family for the past 300 years. She appreciated the gift; it was a handsome clock. But she hated its constant tick-tocking. A mechanised reminder of the passing seconds of her John's life. She hugged him tighter, letting his heartbeat drown out the horrible continuous sound. As long as she could hear his heartbeat strong and steady, maybe, just maybe, she could convince herself that the Universe wouldn't be so unkind. Even for a little while.

"Hey, hey. What's this?" He felt the answer on his chest rather than heard it. "Nothing."

John knew exactly what that 'nothing' meant. He also knew better than to push the issue. Delenn had insisted that she was finally 'o.k' with this, but they both knew it was a delaying excuse. He tucked a flyaway strand of hair behind the ear of his wife, who was resolutely not meeting his gaze. He could not bear to lose her to this… despair. He was selfish. He wanted all that he could take in his limited time. All of her. Even her sadness, because it was hers. And all he could do now is hold her tighter. When she's ready, he'll be there.

Delenn too in a deep breath, inhaling his scent and in a visible effort to compose herself, she mentioned in a light, casual tone, "I didn't know you were learning Minbari."

He snorted. "Apparently not as well as I hoped."

She loosened her hold, but still held close. "It wasn't so bad. You should've stressed the second syllable more. And pay more attention to the nuances."

"The perils of relying on just a portable dictionary-slash-phrase book, I suppose," he whispered, as he traced the outline of her ear. He had some fuzzy ideas on his next course of action, and most, if not all, involved his wife. And a bed. Or maybe not. The bed was optional.

She shivered at his touch and the husky tone of his voice. "Perhaps," she murmured in a shaky voice, "I could give you some personal lessons."

John groaned a little at the unintended innuendo. Delenn can be so artlessly seductive; god only knows how he managed to keep his hands off of her. He certainly couldn't now. The feeling was mutual however, and if his wife doesn't stop fingering that particular button on his shirt, he might not be able to stop himself from embarrassing the both of them.

He closed his hand over her wayward one. "I am looking for some private time, Madam," he said in a mock-suggestive waggle of his eyebrows that made her burst into a wide smile. "But not concerning language lessons."

But the hand at her back was pressing her closer to him, and she knew he wasn't joking. "John," she said it in her own inimitable way, "We don’t have the time." But she negated her words by caressing his cheek, which did nothing to offset his desire.

"When will the meeting resume?"

"In another… 30 minutes."

"10 minutes more than I hoped," he said in a thoughtful voice. Delenn looked up at him in wary amusement. He surely isn't serious? His eyes twinkled with barely suppressed humour, but she couldn't help but notice his eyes had darkened to a warm sapphire.

He saw the unspoken challenge in her eyes. "You don't believe me?"

"Don’t you dare." But the words lack conviction, not a surprise considering she couldn't really think straight with his thumb stroking her hand on his chest, and his other hand drawing lazy circles on her back.

He chuckled over her uncertainty. And suddenly, without much warning on his part, he bent down and picked her up into his arms. She squealed, her arms automatically linking around his neck. Giddy from the sudden change in her equilibrium, she said frantically, "John, put me down this instant!"

"I warned you," he said, with a smile in his voice as he strode purposefully inside.

"I am not an infirm!" The words were quiet, urgent.

"But you're pregnant."

She seized on his convenient excuse. "Exactly!" she said half-triumphantly. "I'm pregnant."

He arched an eyebrow. "Not that pregnant."

She wanted to protest more, but really, this is such a pleasant position, to be cradled by him. And besides, they were married. And he had been away for a week already. Still, for argument's sake… she opened her mouth to protest.

But he was quicker; he silenced her with a kiss. And somewhere in Delenn's dazed mind, a particular phrase of John's flitted through: Ah hell! 

 

The Minbari guards barely flinched. They were amused, certainly, and more than a little inspired, but duty called.

But they all shared a secret smile.


End file.
